


Manual Override

by exklusiv



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exklusiv/pseuds/exklusiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Simmons needs to be alone, he's figured out how to make his team leave him alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manual Override

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SparklesWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklesWrites/gifts).



> Unbeta'd

Finding private time amongst his teammates was one of the most difficult things that Simmons had ever done. It wasn’t that those on the Red Team were particularly nosy, but they did have the habit of completely and totally ignoring cues to go away. It was because of this that Simmons had developed a sense of creativity, pertaining mostly on how to tell his teammates “please fuck off, I am in the middle of masturbating” without actually having to say the words. And this development in creativity got even stronger when Sarge replaced much of his body with bionic parts.

Donut had been the easiest to figure out. When he came knocking on the locked door of the barracks, curiously asking Simmons what he was doing, all Simmons had to do was sigh and say, “Can you come back later, please? I’m kind of writing in my diary, and I want it to stay private.” Donut would apologize immediately and skip away after telling Simmons he was free to discuss any emotions he may have had. The exact phrasing was never the same, but it always revolved around keeping a diary, and it always made Donut leave. Simmons was grateful for that sensitivity in Donut; he may have had next to no understanding of innuendo, but he was big on privacy.

Sarge was a little trickier. Simmons had been forced to think of something undesirable and completely not arousing (Grif’s pile of laundry usually did the trick) on more than one occasion because Sarge was incorrigible and could not be swayed. It was when Simmons began getting crafty about coming up with plots of the Blues locking him in his barracks to reduce their numbers that Sarge began backing off, usually distracted by thoughts of revenge. Simmons could even buy a little more time by suggesting simply getting the key to unlock the door, and then that launched Sarge off on a tangent of creating a contraption that would dissolve the door so this sort of thing never happened again. Or something like that.

It was not, however, until Simmons was turned into a cyborg that he could make Grif go away. It was a complete pain in the ass that they had to share a bunk, and there was nothing that could dissuade Grif from taking a nap, so Simmons used to have to make due with being frustrated. However, these new mechanical parts had come with a perk, and Simmons knew exactly how to use them to his advantage.

All it took was Grif to pound on the door once, yelling, “Put away any of your goddamn nerd shit, I’m coming in for a sleep,” and Simmons was ready with the perfect excuse.

“Go away, Grif, I’m working!”

“Yeah, you can keep working, but I want to sleep! Open up!”

“No, I’m not opening up. I’m manually overriding my system.”

There was a long pause. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Grif, think about it. I’m part robot. I have to keep all my parts upgraded and up to date. Part of that requires occasionally overriding the system so I can make those upgrades. But, you know what, I guess you could come in and help me if you wanted! A little work could do you well.”

There was another long pause. “Yeah fuck that, I’m just gonna go find a tree to sleep under.”

No one could tell Dick Simmons that he wasn’t the smartest Red.

This excuse kept him safe for weeks. There was always slight variation on it, but it always had a reference to manual overriding, and Simmons came to think of this term as his own private euphemism. At any time of the day, if he felt he needed to relax and unwind, all he had to do was fake a glitch, comment on how he needed to go manually override his system, and then be on his merry way to a locked room and lots of satisfying sexual release.

It was when Grif came knocking on the door after Simmons had mentioned his manual override, that Simmons didn’t even panic. “Go away, please.”

“Yeah, whatever, manually overriding, blah, blah, listen, Sarge is hounding me and the tree is losing its leaves so there is less shade. I’m coming in.”

That caused a stutter in Simmons’ movements. “Wait, wait, Grif! It’s all technical in here, stuff you wouldn’t understand!”

Simmons began to panic when the sounds of Grif punching in the lock code traveled through the door. “Dude, I’m just coming in here to sleep, not help you with all your computer—”

The silence was thick and painful as Grif swung the door open and saw Simmons, hand frozen on his cock, his eyes wide. Grif already had his helmet off, his dark hair messy, his skin still a little pale and patchy from where Sarge had placed Simmons’ skin on it, and his eyes are just as wide. For a moment, there was nothing, then Grif sighed and shook his head.

“Manually overriding the system. You fucking nerd.”

Simmons hurriedly grabbed for a blanket and threw it over himself, bringing his knees to his chest. “What are you doing?! Get out!”

“Man, jack off all you want to, I am fucking tired. Just stay fucking quiet, and try not to make it obvious you’re thinking about Princess Leia in her gold bikini.”

Grif, though lazy, got his armor off in a matter of moments and trudged over to his bunk in his black under suit. He fell onto his bed and threw an arm across his eyes. Simmons stayed still for a few moments, waiting until he was sure Grif was asleep, then he turned his back to Grif and continued, blushing and embarrassed.

He was almost finished when, from across the room, he heard Grif mumble, “Fucking computer shit. If that was computer stuff, I’d be a goddamn genius at it.”

Simmons came with his face the same color as his armor.

**Author's Note:**

> You could probably read this as a Grimmons if you want (good lord I implore you to read everything as Grimmons) but I didn't really write it that way.  
> More or less Stevie came to me with this idea and was like "what if" and that phrase is as good as candy to me. Thus, this fic was born.  
> I'd love to know what you think!


End file.
